


Everyday Pets (Subject to change)

by sweetayako15



Category: Original Work
Genre: Just an experiment to see what everyone thinks, M/M, Original Story Idea, Short Story, Title is subject (encouraged) to change, segment from a longer story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 19:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1700315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetayako15/pseuds/sweetayako15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balto challenges Andre to a match. If only Cyril knew what is was for...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyday Pets (Subject to change)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So this is a short story/segment from a longer story that a friend and i have been working on. I write it, she illustrates it (manga/comic style). Here are somethings you should know:   
> 1: This story is going to be a yaoi  
> 2: All the characters are based off of animals (mostly dogs), so they have ears and tails that match those animals  
> 3: I am posting this story for feedback on the idea and suggestions on the title! We cannot come up wiht one, so we are asking you guys! It would be a great help! So please, leave comments!

I’ll tell you one thing: some people should never play competitive sports. I personally enjoy the rush of the straining muscles as I push myself past my limits; past the sweat on my forehead and the breathless feeling in my lungs, panting hard as I chase those balls left and right… Never stopping… Anyway, like I was saying, some people should not play competitive sports. Especially those that are a little too serious about winning.

“You hit it out again,” That is Balto, a pup that asked me to coach him in tennis a few months ago. He’s a good kid, straightforward, but he can be a bit clingy.

“It’s too bad that you’re that too short to reach it before it goes out, hm?” That’s Andre, an asshole that happened to save my life. Apparently he had been stalking me for weeks before we actually met; but he saved me none the less, so I forgave him for most of the pictures that I happen to stumble upon. Now the pervert won’t leave me alone… I think I may get a restraining order against him.

“It’s a shame that you are terrible at hitting a piece of cork and some feathers over a net, huh?” The pup retorts with a bitter-sweet smile. Like I said, some people.

* * *

 

 

This whole thing had started a few hours ago, when I promised Balto that we would meet up to practice at our local sports park. Unfortunately, my car was in the shop after the “accident” in which Andre and I met, so I was forced to call upon said man to give me a ride. However, once practice had started, the boy was distracted the whole time, glancing over at Andre when I gave him instructions and giving small frowns whenever Andre would offer us (me) water. I finally gave up on trying to teach the 10 year old how to do an overhand serve and suggested we move to the badminton courts inside the sports hall.

It was once we reached the courts that Balto challenged Andre to a match, which was strange for such a submissive little pup. Don’t get me wrong, he can be competitive, and is usually a good sport about losing, but never have I seen him initiate a match till today. Andre accepted, causing Balto’s ears to go straight up and his tail bristle. Suddenly, I found myself sitting on the benches watching a ten year old pup and a 28 year old pervert go at it over badminton.

Thus bringing us to the present, where I have been sitting here for about an hour, being forced to watch a game of outs. Between Andre’s bulky size and not knowing his own strength and Balto’s short stature and lack of experience, not once have they been able to return the birdie to the other. I tried to intervene, but only received glares and someone growled I’m pretty sure. I wish I had brought a book to read, because at this rate, no one was going to win or lose.

* * *

“You should have just let the boy win. We wouldn’t have been kicked out,” I sigh as I wave to Balto and his mother (to whom I had apologized several times after she had been looking for us) as they get into their car and drive away. It is dark, an hour later than when Balto was supposed to go home, and I am starving. If Andre is as smart as television shows make government agents to be, he should know better than to cross me.

“…But then he would have won.”

Never mind, television lied. He’s dumber than a brick, and his head just as hard.

I get into the car and my stomach lets out a loud growl just as the driver gets in. He looks at me about to ask something, but the narrowing of my eyes makes him go quiet. Maybe there is some intelligence in there after all. As we drive back to my house, I can’t help but ask what had been on my mind. “So,” I began, seeing the driver glance over at me, “Why were you guys so adamant about playing? From what I saw, neither of you really know how to play…” I stop as the car stops in front of my house and Andre looks me in the eyes.

“… You can be pretty dense, can’t you?”

One of these days this man is going to get killed by giving stupid answers.

“Nevermind!” I say as I grab my bag and get out of the car, slamming the door behind me. Just as I leave, I swear the man says something about “winning” something, so I open the door again. “What did you say?”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re safe for now,” He states blankly.

My ears pin back, and I close my eyes in annoyance, not appreciating that answer at all. “Tell me right-“

Feeling something over my mouth, I realize that I can’t speak. I focus in on Andre, only to see his eyes a few centimeters away from mine. The man kisses me, just as he did the day we met, but this time it’s more gentle, and my life is not hanging in the balance.

He finally pulls away and looks at me, “Don’t worry about it, Cyril. I’ll protect you,” He then pushes me away from the car, closes the door, and drives away. I don’t know if I should feel insulted or grateful, but I do know that the pervert can be kind of sweet at times.

An idiot, but sweet none the less.


End file.
